


Forfeit

by JaimeJeTaime



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackmail, Comfort, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9331556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaimeJeTaime/pseuds/JaimeJeTaime
Summary: Jack and Mark join the others in Brighton for the Cringemas livestream, and Mark can't help but think that something isn't right. He can tell Jack is trying to seem happy, but the light in his eyes has dimmed, and Mark just hopes he can figure out what's wrong before it goes completely out.Jack, however, hopes that Mark drops it before his waking nightmare can get even worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't get into it until later, but the domestic violence in this will be fairly graphic in at least one scene, which may cause the rating to go up. (Unrelated spoilers in the comments.)
> 
> The first couple of chapters will reference the Christmas livestream. If I reference something that actually happened in it, it might be out of order or slightly skewed. I just say this so that hopefully people aren't distracted by, "Hey, that's not how that happened!" thoughts while reading. And if you didn't see any of the livestream, please tell me if there needs to be more exposition. The contents of the stream aren't important to the plot really, but I don't want anyone to be confused.
> 
> Finally, I think it's important to note that the woman in the violent relationship with Jack is not Signe. I don't like writing things like that when there's real relationships involved, so she's an OC. 
> 
> Sorry for the massive note... Enjoy?

"One—two— _three_!" _Crack!_

They all scrambled, laughing, to find the slip of paper with the forfeit on it, dropping the torn remains of their Christmas crackers on the ground as they searched. Jack hadn't felt this happy and relaxed in a long time, and he hated to think that he'd almost had to miss it. He tried to shake himself out of that melancholy train of thought and started loudly but playfully complaining when they discovered that it was Jack once again who had to do the punishment.

Revelmode's Christmas—sorry, _Cringe_ mas—livestream was rolling along steadily; they were already three hours into their first four hour stream, almost done for the day, as Jack jokingly stared moodily into the main camera and had a glitter covered reindeer taped to his head by a giddy Felix.

It was almost a shame that their running gag was to snipe and gripe at each other, he thought, trying to make sure his glasses weren't covered in tape as well. It was usually fun, and it made for funnier videos, but he was looking forward to just hanging out later without the pressure of having to keep up a joke for the cameras. For some reason the joking jabs were actually getting to him today, and as much as he tried to shake it off, he found himself having to repeat, _They don't mean it_ , over and over again in his head. They didn't. He _knew_ they didn't, especially because he gave as good as he got, and it's not like _he_ meant it.

Either way, he was glad when Felix decided the reindeer wasn't going to get any more attached to his head and they moved on to the next item on the schedule. The fast pace of the stream thankfully meant Jack didn't have too much time to let his thoughts pull him down too far, and he was able to keep up the energy he was known for during the rest of the stream. He was enjoying himself, damn it. There was no reason to second guess everything he did while he was here.

During the last few minutes of filming, Jack was quipping back and forth with Felix one last time as they prepared to sign off for the night. He was tired and ready for dinner and a shower and conversations that weren't filled with insults, even as jokes, but for some reason even now, after a four hour stream, he wasn't quite as prepared as he should have been for Felix's, " _Shut the_ _fuck up_ , Jack!"

On camera, Jack scoffed, firing back at Felix and laughing with the others. Inside, however, he felt like a large, invisible hand had squeezed his chest, and he had to dig his nails into his thigh to keep in the apologies threatening to spill from his mouth. Maybe he was overcompensating because of his worrying and was being _too_ obnoxious. He knew that was already a fine line he walked.

 _No._ _I didn't do anything wrong. He didn't mean it. It's a joke, you idiot._

God. He was almost impressed at how she could ruin the banter between him and his friends even when she was so far away.

He jumped a little when Felix clapped his hands together. "That's a wrap!"

Jack hadn't even noticed they were done filming. He stood and went to his bag to check his phone and blanched when he saw thirteen missed messages. He took a shaky breath and moved his thumb to open them, then nearly jumped right out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind. He spun around, hand over his heart, only to see Mark sheepishly backing up with his hands innocently in the air.

"Jesus, Mark, make some noise next time."

Mark chuckled. "Sorry, I just wanted to check on you. You went kinda space cadet there at the end."

Shit. Jack swallowed and let out an uneasy laugh. "I'm just a bit tired, is all. And hot."

Mark laughed softly as well. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to getting away from all these lights." There was a pause, and Mark cleared his throat. "Listen, maybe it's just me being jet lagged after a twelve hour flight, but you actually seemed a little off overall today. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I—" Jack wasn't sure what to say. What had he done wrong? Other than a few stupid moments of insecurity, he had actually felt more like himself than he had in months. "I'm good, Mark, really. I'll be even better after a shower and a snack, so what say we find Felix and get out of here?"

Jack jumped—again—and cursed loudly when Felix yelled, "Sounds good to me!" from right behind him.

"God damn it, Felix, inside voice!" Jack scolded, but couldn't help but laugh with Mark and Felix as they collected PJ and Emma and left the building to Jack's continued mutterings of buying them all bells to wear tomorrow. He glanced once more at the blinking notification light on his phone, then shook his head and shoved the phone in his pocket, messages unread. She knew he would be constantly busy while in Brighton, so he was probably safe for at least a little while longer. For now, all he wanted to do was go to dinner with his friends and pretend everything was okay.

Maybe if he pretended hard enough he would actually start to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you thought, good or bad!
> 
> And please, if you have any respect for the people depicted in this fic, DO NOT share this with them or tag them in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was a raucous affair as they celebrated reaching their first goal and expended all of their left over energy. When they all finally parted ways, Jack and Mark heading back with Felix and Marzia, the only things on Jack's mind were his friends and thoughts of a warm shower.

It was only as he was stepping out of that shower that his heart seized, remembering all at once that he needed to check his phone. He quickly toweled off his hair, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and shakily fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded jeans as he sat on the side of his bed.

Five more messages and three missed calls. Jack's breath picked up, he was barely able to swipe open the messages because his hands were shaking too badly. He started from the first one, which had been sent right before they had started the stream.

5:53 – _I'll be watching you. ;)_

Jack shuddered, extremely glad he hadn't checked his messages before they'd begun; he would have been an even bigger nervous wreck than he already was.

6:07 – _How did I know you'd manage to fuck things up before your stupid little show even started_

What? Oh, she must mean—He'd done the handshake like that on _purpose_ , for God's sake, they knew that. Didn't they? He shook his head and scrolled down. All of the messages were like that.

7:34 – _It's kind of funny how much you can tell they don't want you there_

7:55 – _Even the idiots in the chat box are wondering what happened between poor Jack and his stupid friends_

7:55 – _And you don't even see it do you_

8:48 – _Right there! Lol the man literally just said he hates you and you laugh it off like a joke_

8:49 – _They mean it Sean_

8:49 – _You know they do_

Jack clenched the phone in his hand and took a breath. She'd never made it a secret that she only put up with his videos for the money they brought in. She hated them, couldn't stand to be in the room if he was watching one, let alone working on his own, yet she spent four hours watching their stream just so she could—Fuck. He shook his head and finished reading them, scrolling further until he got to the most recent ones.

10:43 – _I know you're done Sean. I expect a response_

Shit. Shit shit shit. He checked the time and winced; it was past midnight. He finally reached the most recent message and swallowed thickly.

11:43 – _I told you they were a bad influence. I'm looking forward to the talk we'll have when you get home._

He was shivering so badly he could barely see the text on the screen, and his breath was coming in short gasps. He pushed himself up the bed until his back hit the headboard and pulled the duvet, and his knees, up to his chin, wrapping his free arm around his legs, and tried to get his breathing under control.

He could almost hear her voice in his head. _They think you're stupid now, just imagine their faces if they saw you having a panic attack like a little girl._

His heart felt like it stopped when he saw a new message come in.

12:06 – _I can see that you've read these. And still no response. Tsk tsk. This bottle of Smirnoff is looking pretty good right now…_

Jack scrambled to hit the call button and put the phone to his ear. Once it picked up, before she could even say anything, he blurted out, "Please don't! I'm sorry—I'm so sorry, I—I had the phone on silent for the stream and forgot to take it off and got distracted and _I'm sorry_ just please don't—"

 _"Shut up."_ His teeth clicked shut and he pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling. _"Do you really think I give a single shit about your excuses, you stupid bitch?"_ He could hear her smirk through the phone. _"Wanna guess what this is going to cost you?"_

"Please," he begged quietly, "I'll do better, it was a mistake and I'll do better, I just—"

 _"I don't remember giving you permission to speak again."_ God, he was going to puke. _"Since I'm so nice, I'm going to let_ you _choose your punishment."_

There was a pause before he realized what she wanted. "Thank you," he managed to whisper, tilting his head back to try and stave off the tears he knew were coming.

 _"Good boy."_ He shuddered. _"So what will it be; you come home two days early, or half—"_

"Laina, no, please!" He cringed and slammed his hand over his mouth, but he hadn't been able to help it. Thoughts of this trip had been the only thing getting him through the past few months, and while he knew she wouldn't make him leave until after the stream tomorrow to avoid unwanted attention, the thought of losing even a second of his week-long stay was devastating.

There was a pause before she continued in a dangerously sweet tone of voice. _"I'm sorry, baby, you're right. Will it be_ three _days early, or half a bottle of Smirnoff?"_

He gave up trying to fight off the tears and slowly removed his hand from his mouth.

"You know what I choose," he whispered, defeated.

_"I'll adjust the plane ticket."_

The line went dead. Jack sat there, numb, for a few moments before having enough of a mind left to take the phone off silent before slowly sliding down the headboard until he was curled up on the pillows, the darkness under the duvet a small comfort as he tried to keep his tears silent.

A sob caught in his throat when he heard a quiet knock on the door. Jack frantically scrambled out of bed and scrubbed at his face, trying to look at least somewhat presentable as he answered, "Y-yes?"

The doorknob started to turn and he panicked—That hadn't been an _invitation_! But there was nothing to do for it now but watch the door open and a worried Mark walk in. He stopped pretty quickly when he saw the state of Jack's face.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting, Sean, I just… The walls are thin and you sounded upset. I just wanted to check on you."

Jack nodded and ran a hand through his hair before wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm okay. Thank you," he amended, "but I'm okay. You can go now." He winced at the abrupt words, but he didn't want Mark to see him like this any more than he had already.

Mark hesitated, but instead of leaving he shut the door—with himself still inside.

"Mark—"

"You don't look okay, Sean, and you've been acting strange, and flinching at the smallest things, and… I'm just so worried. You… honestly, you remind me of myself during a really… rough point of my life and I can't just walk away if you're going through something similar. I can't. I'm sorry."

Jack shook his head and took a step back. He couldn't know. Could he? He had been so _careful_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of consistent uploading, I split this chapter into two so I could guarantee a chapter next week. I'm sorry if that disappoints anyone, but I would rather give you shorter chapters more frequently than longer chapters with no known upload date while my schedule is this hectic. If you disagree and prefer longer chapters less frequently, feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do if enough people like it better that way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets a small reprieve in the next two chapters, and then things start to pick up.

Mark was waiting for a response, looking at Jack like he was going to fly apart at any second, and maybe he was. His breaths were speeding up along with his heartrate and he had to clench his shirt in his hands to keep them from shaking. There was a loud vibration from the nightstand and Jack flinched violently, burying his head in his hands and pulling his elbows in close to his body, trying to disappear completely.

Suddenly there were arms engulfing him, pulling him against a strong chest that vibrated as Mark murmured meaningless words of comfort in his ears, one hand cupping Jack's head gently to his chest, the other rubbing soothing lines up and down his back.

It was all too much. He hadn’t been touched like this—gently, calmly, without any fear of pain—in so long, and it felt like something inside him shattered as he broke down in Mark's arms.

He barely registered Mark moving them, and it was only once his sobs stuttered to a stop that he realized how comfortable he was, secure in Mark's arms against his chest while the other man sat against the headboard, legs stretched along the edge of the bed, Jack's legs bent, almost in Mark's lap. He blinked as a hand came up to wipe some of his tears away, and all at once it occurred to Jack what had just happened and he pushed away as far as Mark's arms would allow.

"Oh, God," he muttered, voice wrecked. Mark's shirt was ruined, and Jack didn't want to know how long he had just cried all over him. "I'm so sorry, Mark, I don't know what came over me, I'll—I'll buy you another shirt tomorrow and—" Jesus, he was practically still in the man's lap, but he couldn't move further without really struggling, which… he couldn't bring himself to do.

"Hey, stop." Mark didn't seem angry, or even annoyed at the mess Jack had made. "I can wash it, it's fine. You're more important."

Jack blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds before the blinking light on his phone caught his eye. He grimaced and unconsciously moved closer to Mark. Mark reached over and took the phone from the nightstand, handing it to Jack and watching him closely. Jack let Mark pull him closer, leaning into his side since apparently they had said "fuck it" to any boundaries friends should have, as he turned the screen on. When he saw what it was, he went limp, letting his head fall onto Mark's shoulder and groaning.

"It was a fucking game notification."

He felt Mark let out a breath before he carefully asked, "What did you think it was going to be?"

He looked up at Mark's face and tentatively said, "Nothing?"

"Sean—"

"Can we please not talk about it right now? Please? I don't think I can take any more crying tonight."

Mark didn't look like he would relent. Later, Jack would blame desperation and exhaustion for what he did next, because right now he just wanted the questions to end, and maybe the soft touches to continue. When Mark opened his mouth again to keep questioning him, Jack took his face in his hands, leaned up, and kissed him.

The kiss was short and barely there, and as far as distractions went it seemed to work pretty well, since Mark was just staring at him, stunned. Though if Jack were honest with himself, he could never blame it on purely trying to distract the other man. Jack leaned back and looked away, not sure what to make of Mark's silence. He rubbed his nose and realized what an utter mess he was, and of course Mark was quiet, he was probably trying to figure out how to tell Jack he'd gotten snot on him or something.

"I'm sorry—"

"No!" He seemed to have broken Mark out of his stupor. "Don't apologize, I'm just… surprised."

They stared at each other for a moment more. Jack wasn't sure who started it this time, but their lips were pressed against one another again, more firmly now, and neither of them seemed to want to stop. Jack whimpered as their mouths opened slightly, the kiss deepening as Mark pulled them closer together.

Jack winced when he felt a twinge in his side as Mark's hand pressed against a sensitive spot and he pulled away suddenly. "Stop, stop—I'm sorry, I—I'm disgusting right now, and I probably need another shower, and this is really not a good idea anyway, I'm sorry, and I think—"

"Shh… It's okay. We just got a little carried away." Mark softly caressed Jack's cheeks with his thumbs and guided him gently to lie back on the sheets.

"Mark, we can't—"

"It's alright, Sean, we're stopping. You're upset and exhausted; I'm sorry I pushed. We don't have to talk about anything right now. I just—Can I try something?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea." Now that he was lying down, the only parts of their bodies that were touching were their hands; Jack's held in both of Mark's as he gently circled his thumbs on his palms. He sighed, eyes drooping, suddenly feeling much more tired all at once.

Mark squeezed his hands gently. "Nothing inappropriate, I promise. I just want to try and help you relax so you can sleep."

Jack bit his lip and nodded, tasting salt from his tears and just a little bit of something heady he thought must be Mark, and God, why the hell did he make them stop?

Mark released his hands and stood, heading for the bathroom. "I'll be right back, I want to grab something first."

Jack nodded again, watching as he left and listening to the tap running and the faint noises from the bathroom, trying to keep his mind off of anything serious. He was already embarrassed enough; he didn't want to start blubbering again.

Mark came back soon enough with a damp rag in his hand and sat on the side of the bed by Jack. He brushed Jack's fringe away from his eyes and began to wipe away the rest of his tears. Jack protested weakly, not wanting Mark to think he was a child, but was gently hushed again. The rag was warm and soft and felt so good against his tear-swollen eyelids, and he really didn't have the energy to fight it any more than that, so he closed his eyes and soaked up the kind, soft words and touches while he had the chance.

"There we go." Mark set the rag aside after there were no more traces of tears on Jack's face or neck. He cupped Jack's cheek in his hand for a moment, drawing out a small, involuntary noise at the touch. Jack felt his face heat. God, he was pathetic when he was sleepy.

He was distracted from these thoughts as Mark moved his hand, placing both on either side of the curve between Jack's neck and shoulders, thumbs rubbing light pressure along his neck.

"My mom used to do this for me when I was sick, so I promise it's not sexual at all. It just always put me right to sleep, even when I was sore or tense, and I think it would help you. Is this okay?" Mark didn't move until Jack sighed shakily, looking into his eyes and nodding. He trusted Mark, and he knew that if he didn't at least try something there would be no hope for sleep that night anyway.

Mark smiled softly down at him and began to increase the pressure on his neck and shoulders. Still gentle, but enough that Jack could feel little knots of tension he wasn't even aware of start to dissolve away under Mark's hands. Once Mark was satisfied with his neck and jaw, his hands moved down to Jack's shoulders and it felt a little more like a traditional massage.

Jack was almost crying all over again as his stress melted away, and he gave up trying to stop the content noises coming out of his mouth. Mark didn't seem to mind. He moved from his shoulder and down his arms, ending by softly massaging his palms again. When Jack was almost asleep, he Mark place a light kiss on his fingers before he let them rest on Jack's chest and began to rise from the bed. His hands tightened around Mark's as a sleepy panic washed over him.

"Wait." Mark sat back down, trying to rub the new tension out of Jack's hands. Jack could barely even open his eyes, and had no energy to be embarrassed as he pleaded, "Stay with me? I don't want to be alone right now."

He felt another kiss, this time to his forehead, as Mark whispered, "Anything you want." Relieved, Jack was barely aware enough to notice Mark turning off the light and getting into bed behind him before wrapping Jack safely in his arms as he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind response this story has gotten so far! I try not to obsess to much over things like kudos, but it's really cool to see that people don't hate it, haha.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack felt warm, and comfortable, and safe under the heavy arm draped across his torso, and he was hoping it was still early enough to just stay in bed and go back to sleep. No such luck. Jack only had a few minutes to revel in his almost unfamiliar relaxed state before footsteps could be heard outside his door. His eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply when he heard Felix bang playfully on the door and sing, " _Breakfast!_ " before he continued down the hall, laughing, probably to tell Mark the same thing.

 _Mark_. He heard the man grunt sleepily and felt his arm tighten slightly as Mark slowly began to wake up, undisturbed by the noise. Jack began to panic as memories from the night before came flooding in. Had he actually _kissed_ Mark? He couldn't decide which was more embarrassing, kissing him out of nowhere like that, or kissing him out of nowhere after sobbing all over the poor guy.

 _How pathetic must he think I am? How stupid, immature, weak_ —

"Mornin'," Mark said, voice low and gravelly from sleep. Jack's gaze shot to Mark, trying to gauge his mood, but Mark just blinked at him calmly. "You feel okay?" Jack continued to blink at him stupidly. "Sometimes I get headaches after nights like that, so I didn't know if…" Another pause.

_God, Sean, say something, you idiot._

"Crying, I mean," Mark continued. He cleared his throat awkwardly as Jack floundered for words before beginning to withdraw his arm. "Sorry, I can leave—"

"No!" Mark paused, his hand resting softly on the skin of Jack's hip, his shirt having ridden up slightly sometime in the night. "No," Jack continued more calmly, "I just… You're not upset?" Mark's eyebrows rose in question. "At the way I acted last night—and I didn't let you leave, God, I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Mark interrupted, "I thought we covered this last night? It's okay. It's all okay."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, deciding to let himself believe that for now, not letting himself think of looming flight times or angry texts. Mark's thumb started to stroke his skin soothingly, and Jack wasn't sure he even realized he was doing it. He opened his eyes and met Mark's gaze, his own hand coming up to rest hesitantly over Mark's.

What was he doing? He needed to apologize for the kiss and make sure Mark knew nothing could ever come from it, not that he thought Mark would even want it to, and instead he was holding his hand and engaging in sappy eye contact. _Nut up, man._

Before he could gather the resolve, however, another round of knocks sounded from the doorway and Felix's voice came through again. " _Sean, I swear to God, Marzia will eat all of your food if you don't get your ass down here._ " Mark snorted quietly as Jack called back an affirmative and Felix wandered away again.

"I guess we should head down there before he realizes I'm not where he thinks I am. I don't think we'd live through the teasing," Mark joked. He started to sit up, but froze as his eyes landed on their intertwined hands. Or rather, what could be seen under their hands. " _Jesus_ , Sean—"

Jack looked down in alarm and quickly yanked his shirt down, covering his exposed skin and rolling out of bed, out of reach. How could he be such an idiot? "It's not as bad as it looks, I swear."

"It's not as bad as it looks?" Mark asked incredulously. "You're covered in bruises!"

"I hardly think a couple inches of skin can equal _covered_ , really."

"Take off your shirt." Mark was out of bed now as well, but keeping his distance even though he clearly wanted nothing more than to remove Jack's shirt himself to see the extent of the damage.

"I—I think it's a little early for that, don't you?" Jack tried to joke, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands nervously, not looking Mark in the eyes.

"Sean, please—"

"We need to go down to breakfast."

" _Sean._ "

"Felix will come up, and then—"

"And then maybe he can talk some sense into you, since clearly I can't!"

"It's not that bad!" Jack snapped his mouth shut, surprised at his volume, half expecting Mark to start yelling back. Instead, Mark lifted his head towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

"Look, Mark," Jack began shakily, "I can't stay as long as I thought I'd be able to—No, just let me speak," he said when Mark looked at him in surprise, ready to protest. "Something came up," _don't cry, don't cry_ , "and I have to leave early. Can we just—I'd really, _really_ , like to enjoy the last day of the stream, of—of the trip, for me. Can we please just put it on hold until afterwards? Just pretend everything's normal 'til then?"

Mark looked at him for a few seconds, seemingly warring between wanting Jack happy and needing him _safe_ , clearly not finding 'something came up' to be an acceptable excuse, and finally sighed. "Until after the stream? You'll talk to me tonight?"

Jack nodded.

"Promise?" Mark insisted.

"I promise, Mark. Let's go to breakfast?"

Mark swallowed and nodded, pulling Jack into a quick, heartening hug. When he pulled back, it was almost as if Mark had never even come to his room last night; he smiled and took Jack's hand, pulling him towards the door.

"Come on, Jackaboy, I smell pancakes!"

Jack laughed, unbelievably relieved, as they headed downstairs.

 

After breakfast they had a chunk of time during which they could just hang out, so they all headed to the ice rink. Felix and Marzia skated in effortless circles around Jack and Mark, laughing as they desperately leaned on each other to stay upright, keeping it as platonic as they could in an effort to avoid a flood of tweets when pictures were inevitably posted by fans later. Jack was proud to say that they barely even fell at all, thank you very much, and towards the end they could even make a full circuit of the rink without having to hold on to anything—or anyone.

Emma and PJ met up with them afterwards for a late lunch, and then they all split up to do their last minute Secret Santa shopping. Jack finished quickly, not wanting too much time alone away from distractions, and texted Mark to meet him near the exit when he was done as well. He turned the phone off after Mark's confirmation; the longer he looked at it the more likely it was that he'd get a much less welcome message.

It wasn't too long before Mark joined him on his bench, and they kept each other entertained, people-watching while they waited for the others and then finally headed towards the office to start the show.

 

About half an hour into the stream, as they all laughed, cheering Emma on as she completed a challenge, Jack came to the realization that Mark must have said something to Felix. It wasn't a scary thought; Mark wouldn't give out any secrets without his permission, he knew that, but he must have said something about toning down their normal good-natured jabs, maybe even under the guise of Emma's self-esteem, since he knew she hadn't been prepared for it yesterday either.

As a result, he felt almost weightless during the stream; didn't feel like he was constantly messing anything up, not waiting, tense, for the harsh words or blows that could come any second if he did something wrong. He knew, deep down, that they would never do things like that, but the fear was so ingrained in him that reason went out the door. He could proudly show off his team's shitty turkey cake, knowing he'd get laughs instead of jeers. He felt normal again.

He resolutely did not think about the fact that he wasn't going to turn his phone back on until tomorrow morning.

 

Showering after being under the hot stage lights for so long, and having all manner of items rubbed on his person—he could still taste the gross, warm whipped cream Felix had thrown at him with impressive aim—felt amazing. Soon, though, he had a moment of déjà vu; fresh out of the shower, reality creeping in and Mark knocking quietly at his door in advance of a probably tear-filled conversation.

He closed his eyes and sighed, leaving his suitcase open on the floor where he'd begun to pack and walking slowly to the door. Mark had definitely followed through on Jack's request; he'd actually managed to forget, until this moment, that he'd fucked up and now someone knew—thought they knew—what was going on.

Mark knew enough of the truth that lying would be obvious, and he had a panicked moment during which he wished Mark was the type of person that would be willing to take "I'll be okay" as an answer to this whole thing and just move on. Jack didn't know what he was going to say, or do, or… He wasn't sure of anything as he opened the door and invited Mark inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot of "telling, not showing" which is a literary no-no, but I didn't want to create unnecessary filler.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you thought! It's hard not to be overly critical of my own work, especially since I'm my own beta reader. I'm getting kind of worried about my use of dashes and adverbs, but when I cut back I feel it's too dry, so please do let me know if it's getting out of hand, haha. I'm incredibly grateful for the response this story has gotten already, thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Jack stepped back to let Mark in and shut the door. There was a moment of silence, both unsure of what to say, until Jack looked up and saw Mark frozen in place, staring at his suitcase. “Mark—”

“What would I have to say—do—to convince you to stay?” Mark interrupted, finally looking at Jack with desperation in his eyes.

“It’s not that simple—”

“It doesn’t feel that simple, I know, but I promise it can be.” He paused and took a breath, beginning again more slowly. “You don’t deserve this, Sean, no one does, and I know what they say; they’re sorry, so sorry, it won’t happen again, or—or they beat you down, emotionally and physically until you start to believe the awful things they say, or—”

“Mark.” Jack’s soft plea cut Mark off even more effectively than yelling. He could see Mark’s shaking hands as he ran them through his hair and turned away. Jack thought he may have been blinking back tears and was suddenly struck with the realization that Mark _did know_. Jack had always known, peripherally, that Mark had been through something similar, but it had never seemed real until that moment.

“Mark,” he tried again. “I understand what you’re saying. I know who she is— _what_ she is. I’m not going back because I think she’ll change, or that I deserve it…” Mark didn’t need to know that he wasn’t so sure he _didn’t_ deserve it. “If I could change this—”

“Is it because you think she’ll hurt you if you leave her? That she’ll do something to you? Because that’s what the police are _there for_ —”

“No!” They both startled, and Jack’s eyes shot to the door, hoping his shout hadn’t reached anyone else in the house. He swallowed and twisted his hands together, looking back towards Mark. “The police _cannot_ know, Mark,” he whispered.

“Sean—”

“ _No_.” He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. But maybe… maybe if he explained, then Mark would see why he had to go back? That it wasn’t about him, that Mark would just be making things worse if he made him stay. His heart beat double-time just thinking about telling someone, about what she would do if she found out, but surely, in this case, it would be justified? Mark was bringing up the police, for God’s sake.

While Jack was weighing the pros and cons of just telling Mark the truth, Mark was making another impassioned case for calling the authorities. He was clearly trying to keep Jack calm; his words were calm and even, but nevertheless were putting Jack on edge. He felt like he couldn’t take a full breath, like his heart would beat out of his _chest_ , like—

“She’s _pregnant_ , Mark,” he whispered frantically. He took a ragged breath that was loud in Mark’s shocked silence. “She’s pregnant, and when I upset her she drinks, and smokes, and—and—as long as I can be _good_ then maybe the baby will still come out okay, but if I can’t—and it’s _my fault_ —do you have any idea what hard drugs can do to a baby? The statistics—” He broke off with a sob as the weight of what he was saying came down on him.

He’d never actually said it out loud, never put it into words, and he wasn’t sure if he was feeling relief, or panic, or terror—he just knew that suddenly it was so much harder to breathe and there were small black spots mixing with the tears clouding his vision.

“Okay, hey—” Jack felt Mark’s hands on his arms and they felt almost like anchors, keeping him grounded to the present. He was led to the bed almost in slow motion, and when he’d calmed down enough to be aware of his surroundings he was struck with a sense of déjà vu due to how they were positioned against the headboard, Jack wrapped in Mark’s arms. Thankfully, he didn’t think there would be any impromptu make-out sessions this time.

They sat in silence for a while, even after Jack had calmed down, Mark wrapped up in his thoughts and Jack trying hard to avoid them. After several minutes had gone by, Mark reached a thought he needed to voice.

"Has she actually followed through on any of the threats?”

Jack swallowed and shifted so he could see him better. “She always does if it’s drinks or smoking. She doesn’t do the harder stuff at home so I have to take her word for it. I don’t—She doesn’t usually go that far, though.”

“Doesn’t she have, you know, any sort of feelings towards it?”

“Other than resentment? I don’t think so,” Jack answered. “When she found out she was pregnant she was… _very_ angry.” He still had scars from that conversation.

“If she doesn't want it, then why…" Mark trailed off, not wanting to upset him.

"Why not just get rid of it?" Mark winced at the wording, but nodded. "Without it she would have nothing to make me stay. She's insane, Mark. She's willing to go through this, put her body through all of this, make a _baby_ go through this, just to hurt me. Just to make sure I have nowhere else I can go," he finished lowly, picking at the duvet in frustration.

"Sean—"

"Could you—" Jack interrupted. "I know it's stupid—it's my _name_ —but would you, please, just... call me Jack?"

Mark blinked, but said, "Sure, yeah—whatever you want."

"Thank you," Jack sighed, relieved that he wouldn't have to explain how she'd ruined that for him too. How every time someone said his real name there was a split second of fear, the dread of wondering what he'd done wrong now.

After a moment, Mark started over. “Jack—you have to know that there are people who could help. People whose job is just to help with this kind of thing.”

“Even if they believed me—”

“You’re covered in bruises!”

“ _Even if they believed me_ , no one is going to put a pregnant woman in jail for knocking around a full-grown man. The bruises are almost gone, anyway.”

“ _That’s_ what you call almost gone?” Mark said incredulously. Jack frowned, and Mark shook his head and got back on track. “They could put her in a secure hospital room.”

“No, Mark.” Other than Mark’s frustrated grumble, there was another long moment of contemplative silence. Jack sighed. “And even if they did put her away, then what? They’ll lock her in a cell or a psych ward where the only thing she has to occupy her time is thinking of new ways to hurt the baby. She wouldn’t have me as an outlet, Mark, there’s no telling what she would resort to.”

“They wouldn’t let her have anything harmful, especially if they know she’s in that state of mind. Surely they could… they could put her in isolation or something. Have a more detailed watch on her so she can’t do anything drastic.”

“I don’t think these places are like they seem in movies, Mark. They can’t watch her every move, even in a cell. They can’t take away her fists. They might be able to keep her from killing it, but she doesn’t want to kill it; she wants to hurt it, because it hurts me, and I—” He broke off with a shuddering breath and whispered his next words in shame. “I hate myself, I really do, because sometimes I wish she just _would_.”

“Jack…”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, because we’re not going to call the police tonight. I’m going to go home tomorrow and in five months she’ll have the baby, and that’s when I can take it and we can leave. But not until then.”

Mark turned his head and stared. “Your plan is to just put up with abuse until the baby is born?”

“At least I have a plan?” he said tentatively, then sighed. “It’s not as bad as it seems. If I can just keep her happy for a few months it’ll all—”

"It's only been four months and she's made you _fear your own name_ , Jack! By the time this ends there won't be anything left of you at all,” Mark finished quietly. “Jack… do you really think she’ll let it end when the baby is born?”

“She has to, she’ll have no other leverage.”

“Jack, she’ll have the baby.”

“ _I’ll_ have the baby. I’ll take it and—”

“And get arrested for kidnapping since you never reported the abuse and it looks like you just took off with a kid.”

Jack gaped. “I would tell them _then_ , Mark.”

“When you’re bruise-free? When there’s no proof? You think they won’t believe you now, what do you think they’ll say when you take a newborn from its mother and use that as a defense after the fact?”

“Stop it, Mark, I don’t—” Jack’s voice was shaking and he turned away to blink back tears.

Mark put his hand on Jack’s cheek and gently turned his face so that he had to meet Mark’s eyes.

“ _Please_ , Jack… We have to at least try _something_.”

Jack sighed in defeat and closed his eyes, leaning his face into Mark’s hand. He didn’t know what to do. Mark wasn’t going to let this go, but if he called the police and they didn’t take him seriously, he knew what she was willing to do when she got angry. On the other hand, lately he felt like she was always angry, and he dreaded what would meet him at home tomorrow. He wasn’t very optimistic that he’d be getting a warm welcome.

He wondered if what Mark was saying was true. If he told the police and they believed him, would they really be able to keep her from doing more harm? Could there be people at a hospital that could figure out why she was acting like this?

Did the potential for good outweigh the potential for harm?

They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in their own troubled thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, especially since I teased two chapters a week and then couldn't even get up one. The worst part is I had it ready on time, but right before I posted I realized I'd nerfed my own plot and had to rewrite it. I'm still not happy with this chapter, but it has what it needs to move the story along. Next chapter we get a little bit of action.
> 
> I think most of you probably guessed where the plot was going, but let me know what you thought either way! Thanks so much for all of the support on this story.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you thought, good or bad!


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